


touch me and you'll never be alone

by kiwigirl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Character Turned Into Vampire, Clueless Darcy, Crack, F/M, This kinda got away from me, Vampire Darcy - Freeform, Wolverine is there, does it make sense? no, does this matter? also no, if you have hints towards genre please let me know because I'm stumped, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26930338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwigirl/pseuds/kiwigirl
Summary: Darcy's not sure how she ended up with the snarly mercenary but she kinda likes it(aka the one where Darcy doesn't realise she's a vampire whoops)Vaguely inspired by a Tumblr post I read once and written as part of the 2020 Darcylvania event
Relationships: Victor Creed/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 45
Kudos: 162
Collections: The Monster Mash





	touch me and you'll never be alone

“Darcy, how are you feeling?”

At the quiet question, Darcy opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom. Jane stood over her, concern clear on her face despite the heavy curtains drawn tight. She thought for a moment, taking stock of herself and her body, before answering. “Great. Amazing, actually. Stronger, faster…”

Her friend snorted and handed her a glass of water. “Glad to hear the hangover from hell is over.” She inspected Darcy. “You’re still looking pretty pale, though.”

“I am naturally fair, thank you very much. It runs in the family.” Darcy drained the glass and let her head thump back onto the pillow. “Sheer ghostface is held off only by liberal application of sunlight. Your latest project had us up all night for _weeks_. I knew working for an astrophysicist could make me nocturnal but this is kinda ridiculous, last night was my first night out in _ages_.”

“No wonder you got so drunk,” Jane sniffed. “And it wasn’t last night, it was two days ago. You slept through Sunday.”

“I -” Darcy checked her phone for the time and date. “- whoa.”

Jane sighed. “I don’t know when you got home on Saturday but you were pretty out of it yesterday.” Rising, she drew one of the curtains back. Sunlight streamed through the gap and Darcy yelped, diving back under the covers.

“Okay, not as over the hangover as we thought, huh?” The sound of curtains again, then - “it’s safe to leave the bed now.”

“Thanks,” Darcy muttered, poking her head out. Her head ached and her throat burned. “Can I get some more water? I’m parched.”

* * *

Darcy sensed him before she saw him, though one came soon after another. He was graceful for his size, like some big cat, his steps fluid and lithe. Her first thought was that he looked _delicious._ If poor sweet Ian who she’d left back in London had been a snack, this guy was a full three-course meal and she couldn’t wait to dig in.

Her second thought was _wait, why is he Jane’s lab?_

With a mouth-brain filter that was less than effective even when she wasn’t pulling another all-nighter to keep an eye on Jane’s results, the question was out before she could help it. “What are you doing here?”

The big guy jumped. If he’d been an actual cat, his fur would be on edge and his ears pinned back. “Dr Foster, I presume?”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Dr Foster isn’t here right now, can I take a message?”

“That’s why I’m here,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “I was hired to send a message.”

“What is it?” she asked suspiciously, not liking how he was looking around.

“This,” he said, and raised a fist to Jane’s precious spectrometer.

Darcy screeched and darted across the room to catch his arm before it fell. It halted in midair and they stared at each other, frozen, until Darcy kicked the guy in the groin and he folded in half, groaning. Before he could struggle to his feet, she grabbed him by the collar and towed him halfway across the room —

“Wait, you pulled him? How big was this guy?”

Darcy scowled at the interruption but cast her mind back. “6’2, 6’3 maybe?”

Jane whistled in surprise.

“Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, I guess. Besides, the floors in here are super slippery.” She took another long gulp of her coffee to fend off the exhaustion that had hit a few hours ago. This job really had made her nocturnal.

“And then?” Jane broke into her thoughts, insistent on understanding.

“I was ready to go all Ronda Rousey on his ass when he muttered something about not getting paid enough for this and he scarpered.”

Jane sighed and leaned over her spectrometer once more to ensure it hadn’t been damaged, despite Darcy’s assurances that the guy hadn’t touched it. “We should get some better security, yeah?”

“Definitely,” Darcy agreed. “Also, is there any more coffee?”

* * *

Of all places, she bumped into him at the 24h minimart down the road. “You!” she hissed, pinning him with a glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Buying beer,” he replied, opening the fridge beside them to suit action to words.

She slapped a hand out, slamming the door shut, and he stiffened, eyeing her warily.

“Do I have to worry about you trying to break in again?” They might’ve shelled out for extra security but that didn’t mean she wanted to live test it anytime soon.

The guy shook his head. “Not anymore. Cross refused to cough up for hazard pay so I terminated our arrangement. I doubt you have to worry about anyone else, either. I’ve told a few people about Dr Foster’s fearsome protector, so I doubt anyone of quality will take that cheapskate’s money.” He said this so casually, it took a second for the name to register.

“Cross? Like, Darren Cross?” An older lady one aisle across looked over and Darcy realised it had come out as a shriek. The sleazebag had already tried to hire Darcy away from Jane, either to steal her research or to hamper it or both and now it seemed he was stooping to property damage. A snarl twisted Darcy’s face as she pondered her options. Cross Industries hadn’t released anything new recently, which could be fatal in the fast-moving tech industry. Perhaps she could use that. Her focus snapped back to the man in front of her. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t call the cops on you.”

He seemed amused. “Listen, sweetheart. It was nothing personal.”

“It sure felt personal,” she muttered, propping her hands on her hips, the movement drawing her top tight across her chest.

His gaze dipped from her face to fasten somewhat lower. “Oh, if I wanted to get personal, you’d know.” His voice, already deep, dropped about an octave lower and she shivered. “How about dinner?” he suggested, and she was struck by the overwhelming desire to bury her face in his neck. There was a small sliver of skin visible there and it was so tempting, so inviting…

Gritting her teeth, she forced a disdainful look onto her face. “Oh, you wish.” She grabbed the nearest item — some sort of chocolate — and hastened to the counter to pay. In her experience, any and all of her cravings could be solved with chocolate.

* * *

According to the tabloids, Darren Cross frequented one of the upscale bars in town. That Friday night, Darcy tinted her hair, layered on the makeup, and slipped into a snug red dress that had the bouncer falling over himself to let her in. At the bar, three men tried to buy her a drink before she allowed Cross to succeed. It didn’t take her long to convince him to move their conversation to his private penthouse.

Darcy hesitated at the door to the penthouse suite, reluctant to enter. It shouldn’t matter, and yet somehow it did. Once she stepped over that threshold, she would have to see it through. Beside her, Cross gestured for her to precede him in. “What are you waiting for? Come on in.”

Casting her doubts aside, Darcy stepped inside and let him take her coat. She turned to the ornate mirror in the foyer to check her lipstick, only to stop in surprise. Although it seemed to reflect the room behind her, her own reflection was nowhere to be seen. She waved at herself and leaned in close, amazed at the effect, then went to follow Cross as he led the way through the house.

“That’s a great mirror in the entry,” she told him when she caught up, impressed. She hadn’t pegged him as the kind of guy to have a trick mirror in his house.

“Oh, that old thing? It’s been in my family for ages, my mother swears it’s real silver.”

She tucked her arm into his, surreptitiously checking the vial tucked into her cleavage. First chance she got, Darren Cross was going down and Cross Industries would be going down with him. Until then — she looked up at him through lowered lashes. “You going to give me the full tour?”

* * *

“Are you sure I can’t tempt you into dinner?”

Darcy did not jump, nor did she shriek. She turned, very carefully, in the direction of that silky rumble and try didn’t hide her scowl at his smugness in sneaking up on her. “Why should I say yes?” she demanded. “I don’t even know your name.”

His smile widened. “The name’s Victor. Victor Creed, and I know the best steakhouse in Manhattan. Nothing fancy, just good red meat. We can toast the recent implosion of Cross Industries.”

Darcy didn’t normally consider herself a carnivore, but her mouth was already watering at the thought and she wanted to celebrate a job well done. “Where is it?”

Victor named an address three blocks south and she googled it, then messaged it to Jane for safety. “Okay,” she said, slipping her phone away. “Let’s go.”

Dinner was excellent, as promised, and Victor a surprisingly good dinner companion. So good, in fact, that she let him walk her home and invited him inside, very glad that she was no longer sharing an apartment with Jane. It was a good thing she wasn’t needed until the next night shift.

From the lack of light leaking in around her curtains, the sun had gone down by the time she woke up, her head pillowed on Victor’s shoulder. As if sensing her gaze, one eye cracked open and he peered down at her, his eyes almost glowing in the dim light. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Darcy sat up and stretched, feeling far better than she had in a while, and glanced at his oh-so-tempting neck. She had vague memories of… biting?… and he seemed to be covered in what looked like a lot of hickeys, but he certainly didn’t seem to be complaining about it. Mind you, that might be due to the sheets now pooled at her waist. Definitely a boobs guy. “I feel great,” she told him. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to kick me out now?” he asked, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

Darcy smiled with anticipation. “Now why would I do that?” she purred, leaning over to press her lips to his. She was definitely going to be late to work.

* * *

Darcy’s life — once built around optimal nights for observations — shifted to include a regular visitor on her nights off. Jane didn’t entirely approve but Darcy figured it was a misplaced big-sisterly sense of duty and took Jane’s warnings with grace. Not that Jane knew Victor had been the one to break in that first night. Even given the difference in size, she wouldn’t put it past Jane to arrange an accident for Victor if she knew he’d been the one to threaten her baby.

Coming home early one morning, drained by a long night, she stepped out of the elevator and froze. The metallic tang of blood scented the air and a familiar figure huddled by her door. “Victor?” She hurried over, reaching over him to unlock the door and bundle him inside. Quickly, carefully, she peeled him out of his clothes, revealing a gaping wound across his abdomen. “Who did this?” she snarled, fingers curling into claws.

“Shot,” he mumbled in response. “Had to get it out.”

Darcy grabbed his hand and inspected it, appalled. All the blood in the air was making her dizzy. “You did this to yourself?”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Heal quickly. Sorry I-”

“What, sorry you came here?” Victor winced, but Darcy kept on. “Where else were you going to go, huh? You’re _mine_.” Leaving a trail of bloody clothes behind them, she hauled him to their bed and held him until he passed out.

It was quite a bit easier, once Victor moved in. Darcy no longer had to worry about minor things like groceries or cleaning. There was that lab accident that ended with an overenthusiastic paramedic trying to give her chest compressions, but apart from that slight hiccup, she couldn’t complain. She could go days commuting via the concourses under New York, never seeing the sun, and Victor would always be there when she got home. Oh, he still picked up the odd job here and there, but on the whole he’d done it to stave off boredom and she kept him plenty busy.

* * *

They were snuggled on the couch, Victor complaining as he usually did about her icy feet on his stomach, where there was a heavy knock on the door. Frowning, Victor went to answer it. Large as he was, Darcy couldn’t see who was at the door, but she had an excellent view of the way Victor stiffened. “Jimmy.”

“It's Logan now, Victor. Heard you tricked some girl into taking you in. She know what she’s getting into?”

“That’s none of your business,” Victor said through gritted teeth.

“I want to talk to her, make sure she’s alright.” The visitor — Logan— insisted.

Uncurling from the couch, Darcy wandered over to the door to put one hand on Victor’s arm. He shifted to make room for her, giving her a chance to size up the man on the other side of the door — and him a chance to do the same to her.

Logan stared at her, wide-eyed, before turning back to Victor. “You’re mad,” he said flatly. “I know we’ve disagreed before but this is beyond -” His breath whooshed out of him as Victor sank his fist into his stomach.

Both men fell into a fighting stance, odd claws extending from their hands, and they swiped at each other, Logan raising blood on each Victor’s face and Victor slashing the other man’s chest.

Gasping, Darcy stepped between them and shoved, pushing Jimmy back into the corridor and Victor behind her. Both men were snarling and she hoped none of her neighbours would come to investigate. “I don’t know who you are,” she informed Jimmy breathlessly, “but you are no longer welcome here.”

“That’s rich,” she heard him mutter, as she closed the door in his face.

Ignoring him, she turned to Victor, who was still snarling under his breath. “Who was that, and more importantly -” she caught one of his hands in hers “- what are these?”

“They’re my claws,” he told her after a moment, retracting and extending them. “Had ‘em since I hit puberty. And that was my brother, Jimmy. Well, Logan, now. Guess he got tired of being James after some 150 years.”

“150 years?” Darcy echoed, a headache growing at her temples. She knew Victor healed fast and was older than he looked, but if he looked this good at 150 while she aged normally… she needed a drink.

“Yeah, and we’ve been fighting for most of it. Sometimes we’re even on the same side. Still, this might be the first time he has gotten up in arms about me being in love with a vampire.”

Darcy blinked. “Sorry, you what now?”

Victor looked like he regretted opening his mouth.

“Vampire? What are you trying to say?” She crossed her arms across her chest and pinned him with a glare.

Relief flashed across his face, to be replaced by confusion at her words. “Um -”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a vampire.”

At ease once again, he leaned against the fridge and smirked. “Prove it. When was the last time you went sunbathing?”

Darcy scowled. “I burn easily, you know that. Can’t blame me for wanting to avoid skin cancer.”

“Uh-huh. Got any garlic in the house?”

“Can’t stand the smell, so no, we don’t.” She frowned, remembering how much she used to enjoy garlic bread. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

Victor kept going. “Didn’t that ex of yours give you a silver necklace?”

“What, that pendant from Ian? It isn’t silver, it was so cheap it… gave me a rash.” Gulping, Darcy raised her chin. “You think it was silver? Like, real silver?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. Also, you’ve been drinking my blood for the last six months.” He rubbed his throat and she found her eyes drawn there once more. She wanted to deny everything, for him to shut up and show her the bite marks, but they both knew how fast he healed. The shallow cut Logan had given him was already fading beneath the blood coating the wound. Give it an hour and a wet wipe and it would be a pink line — much like the ‘hickeys’ she left on Victor.

Several events and incidents from the last little while fell into place and “I - I - Holy crap, I’m a vampire.”

“Yeah.”

She made a conscious effort not to scream. “Why didn’t you tell me?” They’d been living together for _months_.

Victor dragged one hand over his face. “I assumed you knew.”

Well, that actually made sense. “Huh. Cool.” She played back their conversation in her head. “Wait, you love me?”

“Of course I love you. Why else would I let you nibble on me every night?”

She snorted a laugh but the idea had her eyes glued to the pulse in his neck. “Would you be averse to a little nibbling now?” She paused. “Does it hurt you?”

Victor chuckled. “Barely a pinch. Trust me, you make it worth it.” His eyes darkened and his voice had already deepened into that rough rumble that turned her inside out. Some part of her insisted that she should be scandalised but her feet were already moving across the room and he was reaching for her. Big hands under her butt, he boosted her to where she could lock her legs around his waist and kiss him deeply.

She broke the kiss to flick her tongue over his pulse and he shuddered. “For the record,” she murmured, “I love you too.” Pesky feelings out of the way, she bit down and let herself feed.


End file.
